Daily Slice gives a quick snapshot each weekday of a different slice or pie that the folks at the Serious Eats empire have enjoyed lately.

[Photographs: Kelly Bone]

I have a secret. I love kosher pizza. It almost always means a thick doughy pizza-parlor crust with a crispy, stiff underside, and drowning in toppings. When I seek such a slice in Los Angeles, Nagila Pizza reins supreme.

Famous for their mushroom and cheese stuffed crust, it's the more subtle—yet still innovative—Buffalo ($4.35) slice that draws me in. The generous slice is smothered in mozzarella and feta with rings of tomato, green olives, fresh basil, and za'atar, and gets sliced down the middle into two pointy slivers.

This slice isn't for the pizza snob. The glossy mozzarella has a vicious processed cheese food quality, but when smothered in veggies, the texture actually works. The cheese is not at all greasy. The sauce is practically nonexistent, adding more moisture than flavor. These are all the reasons you should not order a plain slice. The toppings make this pie. Soft chunks of feta and green olives add a briny element to each bite. Clinging to the tomatoes like glitter, the bold za'atar is what really sets this pizza apart. A finely ground mix of thyme, oregano, savory, sesame seeds, and other herbs, this complex blend adds a much richer accent than a shaker of dried oregano ever could.

Nagila Pizza

9411 W Pico Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90035 (map)
310-788-0111; losangeles.nagilapizza.com

About the author: After nearly a decade in Brooklyn, Kelly Bone landed back in Los Angeles where she writes The Vegetarian Foodie. She spends the rest of her time designing office cubicles... you might be sitting in one right now! Follow her on Twitter at @TheVegFoodie

[Photographs: Seth Mazow]

Mozzeria is a great spot for Neapolitan pizzas, both traditional and imaginative. They do everything right by using the best oven, wood, and ingredients. But what sets them apart is that the owners and many of the craftspeople and waitstaff involved in building and running the place are Deaf.

Mozzeria is the work of Melody and Russ Stein. Melody grew up in the restaurant scene, but this is her first pizzeria. What Melody and Russ lack in experience, they make up in pizza IQ. They went big and splurged on a Stefano Ferrara oven, which is fed aromatic almond wood. Buffalo mozzarella from Italy, 00 flour, and plum tomatoes from here in California all demonstrate that Mozzeria understands that great pizza comes from great ingredients.

The Neapolitan pizza had a fantastic sauce that really made the pizza shine. It balanced notes of acidity and sweetness well without letting one overpower the other. The fresh basil and mozzarella played their parts well, complementing the sauce.

The winning element however, was the crust. Crispy on the outside, slightly chewy on the inside and not too doughy. The crust really stood out, and allowed the toppings to play effective supporting roles. Some parts of the crust were almost translucent, and covered in a delicious layer of olive oil.

Underneath, the crust featured some leopard-print spotting, without any excessive burning. This made the pizza firm without too much char or chewiness. My pizza was in a world class oven for the perfect amount of time.

I have never tasted better onions than I have on the pancetta, caramelized onions and mozzarella pizza. They had good acidity from the balsamic but maintained a caramelized sweetness. These onions were thick enough to maintain their juiciness, whereas most caramelized onions are thin and tend towards slimy. There was a definite peppery dose to them as well. Best of all, they covered the pizza. The pancetta and mozzarella were fine accents, but the onions stole the show.

Despite adding a flourish of green, the pesto on the eggplant, peppers and onion pizza didn't pack much flavor. Some folks at my table thought the basil added a lot of freshness, but it was too subtle for my palate. The subtle pesto allowed the awesome crust to play center stage, but it veered a little too close to "bread with stuff on it" territory.

The goat cheese pizza was headed in that direction as well until I had the pleasure of my first eggplant bite. Oh man. The eggplant had absorbed a ton of olive oil. Rich, creamy and luscious, the eggplant adopted the olive oil's best traits. The grape tomatoes and goat cheese were fine, nothing special. Luckily there was plenty of eggplant.

A review of Mozzeria wouldn't be complete without some discussion of the central role deafness plays in the experience. Checking in for a reservation, ordering pizzas, asking for a split check or to-go box, all these things involve a fun game of pointing and charades. Sign language seems hard enough, especially when you add the communication-hindering elements of tossing pizzas and waiting tables. Everything ran smoothly though, and the staff seemed to really enjoy each others company.

Melody and Russ wanted their restaurant to reflect the incredible talents that the deaf community has to offer: "Russ and I wanted to hire skilled laborers who are deaf, whenever possible, to work at Mozzeria—to renew and reaffirm the sense of community, self-esteem and confidence." Deaf and non-deaf patrons and staff sit and work side-by-side. While word is getting out about Mozzeria in the general population of San Francisco, the deaf population has hugely supported the spot since day one.

Mozzeria's unique relationship with the deaf community threatens to overshadow its pizza. They don't want to be known as the deaf restaurant that happens to make pizza, they want to be known as a great pizza place that is welcoming to deaf and non-deaf pizza aficionados. While a few topping combinations didn't wow me, Mozzeria undeniably makes great Neapolitan pizza. Verily, Mozzeria's pizza speaks for itself.

Have you seen this? It's the Del Popolo pizza truck, the new project from former Flour + Water pizzaman Jon Darsky. Looks like it paid a visit the other day to Flour + Water, which posted the photo above to Instagram. That rig is lookin' serious.

From the Del Popolo website:

Del Popolo is housed in a 20-foot transatlantic shipping container that's been repurposed and modified into a kitchen. A wall of glass doors exposes the interior, including the traditional Italian-made wood-fired oven.

No word on whether it's on the street officially yet. [via Andrew J.]

More details on the Del Popolo food truck here»

[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

You'd think that working right in the heart of Little Italy, great pizza options would abound by the Serious Eats office. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Within a few block radius, there are plenty of $10-for-a-pizza-and-glass-of-wine lunch deal type places that offer inferior versions of the thin, crisp-crusted Roman-style pizza that defines the tourist-heavy sections of Little Italy's and Real Italy's all around the world. Real old-school New York slice joints, on the other hand, are thin on the ground.

There's Rubirosa up Mulberry Street offering great by-the-slice Staten Island bar-style pie, but it's thinner and crisper than a typical New York slice and doesn't quite quell the occasional craving for crisp-chewy crust, sweet sauce, and stretchy cheese.

No, for that, we've got basically two options: Rudy's on Hester street, which serves an unspectacular-but-not-terrible slice, and Sal's, recently moved to cleaner, brighter digs on Broome Street. It's a new location, but it still serves the same old pies.

Sal's was never the greatest pizza on the planet, or even in the neighborhood, but it can get the job done provided you know how to eat it. First off, these pies are almost always undercooked with barely melted cheese and a pale underbelly. The cooks and waiters are generally too busy canoodling with tourists to give two thoughts to the pies they're putting out. When you're ordering your slice, make sure to ask for it well done to solve this issue.

Last week Ed went over to Sal's to order a slice and stepped back into the office declaring, "this slice was terrible. This is the first time I actually had to put salt on a slice of pizza."

Ah, Ed. This brings us to Sal's second problem: chronic underseasoning. Their dough doesn't have enough salt, their sauce doesn't have enough salt, even their cheese. There are two ways to deal with this. First, you can ask them to put some salt on the pie before they start reheating it. This'll give it a bit of time to dissolve in the cheese and season the slice a little more thoroughly. Secondly, you can always add a salt-heavy topping like pepperoni to offset the lack of saltiness.

Will the pizza at Sal's ever be great? Not by a long shot. But given proper ordering technique, it can be a real savior in a neighborhood with a dearth of good by-the-slice options.

Sal's

‪369 Broome Street, New York, NY 10013‬ (map); ‪212-925-0440 ‬‎; salslittleitaly.com

[Photographs: Michael Berman]

Workers on Manhattan's West Side: are you suffering from Midtown-food-choice blues? Wanna sit (not-stand), eat pizza civilized-like, and not pay a fortune for it? Do you think, like I do, that we should pay more attention to things founded in the '80's? If you answered yes to any of the above, then head to Lazzara's.

Hidden in plain sight up some stairs on a side street, Lazzara's offers toppings à la carte or as named combinations—all of which derive from names of actual people. Attribute "Sebastian's Seafood" (sautéed garlic with baby shrimp, clams, and calamari) and "Tony's Anchovies with a Twist" (onions with anchovies) to Lazzara's two owners—who happen to be brothers. "John's Special" (mushrooms, peppers, and pepperoni) pays homage to the restaurant's previous owner, from whom the brothers bought the business in 1985. I don't know who "Danny's Delight" is named after, but it has sautéed onions and red potatoes.

After gorging on a Caesar salad (standard creamy dressing, good croutons, uniformly cut bite-size pieces of romaine, no brown leaves :-), we received our half "John's Special," half plain ($15.25). It comes served on translucent parchment paper on top of a cafeteria tray; perfect old school stuff.

A Lazzara's pie is a nearly square affair. It measures 11-inches by 12-inches and arrives cut into six rectangular pieces. Sebastian and Tony grew up with pizza in the family: their father owned a number of shops in Brooklyn and Manhattan over the years. So in a way, they followed in his footsteps. Except that he made round pies and they make square ones.

"Why'd you decide to make square pizzas when round is in your blood?" I asked Sebastian. "Because," he told me, "the restaurant before us was called 'The Heroine' and they made these square pies. When we took it over, we just kept [making] them the same way."

Indeed, the method by which Lazzara's prepares its pizza differs from that which I've witnessed at other places. Lazzara's cuts pepperoni (Hormel brand) into tiny strips of about matchstick-width. Green peppers are segmented into one-inch-wide pieces and placed onto a pie at a rate of exactly one piece per future square slice. Same with the mozzarella (Lazzara's uses sliced, not shredded, cheese): one per eventual slice of pie.

I spent a few minutes watching pizza production in the kitchen and was impressed by Lazzara's ability to make many pizzas in advance. I saw stacks of black trays already layered with dough, sauce and cheese—ready for additional toppings and their forthcoming trips to the oven—650°F, 7-8 minutes.

The net effect of all this for customers is that, with prep time so short, Lazzara's can fill new orders quickly. In fact, they can bake up to 32 pizzas at once. Nice perk if you're throwing a party.

When eating Lazarra's pizza, the first thing you notice is the crust. It reminds me of pizza I grew up eating in the DC area—a wee bit in the direction of pastry-like, but sturdy enough. However, Sebastian swears there is no butter, oil, or shortening in the dough. It does not get a lot of rise (it is made fresh every day and not proofed overnight) so I assume this is why it does not have a pillowy or airy texture. But it's crispy on the bottom—especially toward the edges. It's a saucy pizza, and the cheese on top gets browned and crisp in spots. The overall impression is pizza that's good in a comfort-food-makes-me-happy kind of way. As a testament to this, my pal Chris, in an uncharacteristic move, polished off the meal by picking up his plastic white plate, holding it up to his mouth, and licking it clean. (Sorry, no photo.)

I find it refreshing to eat at a place that dates back to one of New York's least appreciated eras for pizza: the 1980s. Add to this a style of pie that evades the standard categories, and the result is a gem of a place—tin ceilings and all—that cranks out a lot of pies, especially during lunch.

Lazzara's

221 West 38th St New York, NY 10018 (map)
212-944-7792; lazzaraspizza.com

Michael Berman is a photographer and writer based in New York. He publishes multimedia food stories on his blog www.pizzacentric.com; and more frequent, sometimes mundane Twitter observations at @michaelberman.

[Photograph: Meredith Smith]

When visiting Stoughton's Town Spa last week to check out their bar pies, I snapped a shot of this fantastic PIZZA welcome mat! The mustachioed pie-man and pizza flanked lettering really makes this mat a standout.

About the author: Meredith Smith is the Slice editor. You can follow her on Twitter: @mertsmith.

A Tony's Pizza Napoletana pedigree pie may soon be in Brooklyn. [Photograph: L.A. Pizza Maven]

News comes from the San Francisco Chronicle that Brooklyn will be getting a new pizza place featuring Sicilian-style pies, pasta, and a pronounced cocktail program. The San Francisco dream team that is relocating East to realize the project consists of Elizabeth Falkner, who recently closed Citizen Cake and Orson, Bourbon & Branch bartender Darren Crawford, and Tony's Pizza Napoletana partner and operations director, Nancy Puglisi. Tony Gemignani will also be involved as a consultant.

As for the specifics on the place, the Chronicle has this to report:

This new Brooklyn project will be Sicilian-inspired, though pizza styles may vary. It's still early in the process, but they hope to open this summer in Park Slope or the Boerum Hill/Carroll Gardens neighborhood (they're down to two spaces)."

The Falkner and Gemignani connection is attributed to her patronage of his Bay Area restaurant. And in preparation for opening, Falkner is, of course, attending the Tony Gemignani International School of Pizza to get her certification.

About the author: Meredith Smith is the Slice editor. You can follow her on Twitter: @mertsmith.

Daily Slice gives a quick snapshot each weekday of a different slice or pie that the folks at the Serious Eats empire have enjoyed lately.

[Photograph: Paige Brocious]

Admittedly, I have a soft spot for Penguin Pizza, which is just a five minute walk from my apartment. Maybe it's the impressive bottled beer selection, or their 15 cent Monday wing night special, or maybe it's just the trusty neighborhood-joint-feel it gives me.

Penguin is known for their unique topping combinations, like duck confit and red onion, or the current St. Patty's special with corned beef and cabbage. However, on a recent visit the toppings looked dried out, and so it was the Margherita ($3.21), a whopping quarter cut of an 18-inch pie, that caught my eye.

The bottom crust was super thin, something I generally look for in a good slice, but this was overshadowed by the its mushy texture and a lack of charring. A few loose grains of cornmeal on the underside didn't fix that. However, the encrust received a slightly burnt edge, giving the slice that much-needed crunch. The tomato sauce, made in-house, was tangy and generously peppered. I was informed that the advertised "house cheese blend" on the Margherita was a mozzarella and monterey jack, an unlikely and non-traditional pairing that actually worked. Uniformly melted together, they made a nice creamy salty duo. (There are several pies on the menu that use this blend, while others call for just the mozzarella.) Plus a spread of fresh basil makes this a good slice for the value, albeit not the best in its class. A few beers certainly can't hurt its case though.

Penguin Pizza

1350 Massachusetts Ave Cambridge, MA 02138 (map)
617-277-9200; thepenguinpizza.com

About the author: Paige Brocious is a former Serious Eats intern now helping out with Slice in Boston.

"Slice of Brooklyn" Host Tony Muia with "Frankie Pancakes," Uncle Louie, and "Fat Sal" [Photograph via travelchannel.com]

Tony Muia, of A Slice of Brooklyn pizza tours, is starring in a new show on The Travel Channel that premieres tonight at 10pm. The show will follow Tony and his "consiglieri" (pictured above) as they highlight the food and history of their neighborhood while defending their turf against the threat of larger tour companies.

Slice founder Adam Kuban had this to say about the operation:

I went on Tony's tour a long time ago, when he was just starting it. You get so much more than pizza on his tour of Brooklyn—bits of trivia about the neighborhoods you roll through; a sense of how Brooklyn has changed, and stayed the same; a look at portions of the borough many folks (especially tourists) don't get to often enough. He is both a character and a genuinely nice guy."

About the author: Meredith Smith is the Slice editor. You can follow her on Twitter: @mertsmith.

[Photographs: David Kover]

Source restaurant promises a "multi-dimensional" dining experience. Eating their pizza did not transport me to some alternate universe, so I'm assuming this refers to the way they have engineered their dining room into a "joyful sanctuary" replete with "energized" air and custom-designed music. They serve water that has been specially purified alongside their selection of vegetarian and vegan food, and an array of "vibrational multi-dimensional elixirs."

Be careful of the dragon!

I might have gotten stuck trying to choke down all this new agey jargon and avoided Source altogether, except how often do you get to watch a restaurant cook pizzas in an oven shaped like a giant dragon's head? A gaping serpentine maw, which has been sculpted over a gas-fired Mugniani oven, is the first thing you see when you walk into the restaurant. Not surprisingly, given the way Source describes itself, the pizzas they pull from the belly of this beast defy easy categorization.

For those keeping score at home, Source's dragon burns at about 610 degrees on the oven floor, cooking pies in around four minutes. This doesn't particularly produce any charring on their blond-brown pies. The rectangular personal pizzas stay thin through the undercarriage, but not aggressively so—there's no droop at any point in the slices. The end-crust gets crisp on the outside, and has a homemade, bready flavor. It's not a prototypical crust, but we found plenty of reasons to enjoy it.

It took us a moment to decide how to top Source's homey crust. Though I can get pretty excited about vegetarian toppings, pizzas with meat substitutes named "cluck" or "moo" end up on my rather-not list. That ruled out Source's Chile Cluck Pie, which comes with mozzarella, plum tomato sauce, tomracha sauce, and I'm assuming some sort of chicken replacement. Then, we may have made a mistake by skipping out on the Magic Mushroom pizza (assorted mushrooms, fresh mozzarella, goat cheese, and truffle oil). First of all, who doesn't like a drug reference from a restaurant named Source? More importantly, this pie earns a ton of mentions amongst Source's largely glowing Yelp reviews.

We did end up with their Da Bronx pizza, basically Source's version of a Margherita. They make their mozzarella in-house, and I had the sense it was very good, though I'm not quite sure how I knew this (alignment of my chakras?). Source had covered the cheese in a richly-flavored, whoa-that's-sweet tomato sauce that dominated the pie.

Their Grilled Veggie pizza gets topped with grilled squash, eggplant, artichoke hearts, assorted mushrooms, mozzarella, and tomato plum sauce. I'd expected this pie to leak with the water released by the cubes of vegetables, but Source had avoided this problem. None of the toppings overflowed with flavor either, but aided by a shake of red pepper flakes, this became a pizza I could work with.

Of the pies we tried, Source did its best work with the least traditional toppings. Their Smashed Potato Pie came with mozzarella, Parmesan, provolone, swiss, Romano, and pockets of a garlic sauce, all hiding under little piles of herby mashed potatoes. Besides a bit too much starch where the potatoes had been heaped too high, the ingredients seemed perfectly dialed in to soothe the stoner in all of us.

I also tried one of Source's Multi-Dimensional Vibrational Elixirs—something called an Expressed Heart, made with Heart Cordial and Throat Chakra. Imagine a cocktail as made by Tom's of Maine. It's not the kind of thing I envision myself seeking out all that often. But it is nice to know that if I do find myself in a place that serves that sort of thing—maybe you really could call it another dimension—I can get myself some pizza.

About the author: David Kover is a San Francisco-based freelance writer and food enthusiast. He occasionally gets his tweet on as @pizzakover.

This came across the Twitter wire yesterday from @jelsas: A two man, twelve pizza tour of Pittsburgh! There's a detailed report on Pop City that includes snippets of the Twitter log from the tour and mustache ratings of each pizzeria.

Brad Stephenson and Patrick Jordan visited the following pizzerias in and around Pittsburgh: Vincent's Pizza Park (Slice review), Fiori's Pizzaria, Il Pizzaiolo, A'Pizza Badamo, Don Campiti's Pizzeria, City Oven, Pasquarelli's Pizza House, Pizza Italia, Mineo's (Daily Slice), Aiello's, Dinette and Mio Pizza.

Click through to view the video»

This a pretty good jumping off point for covering the major players in Pittsburgh. What are the favorites out there in Slicelandia? Any they left off?

About the author: Meredith Smith is the Slice editor. You can follow her on Twitter: @mertsmith.

[Photograph: DNAinfo/Leslie Albrecht]

If you were at the Midtown Famous Famiglia (yeah the "famous real New York pizzeria" where Trump took Palin) last night, then it very well could have snatched a slice. At least it was positioned to, though to be fair, as reported by DNAinfo.com, the goat stayed with his party and didn't butt in at other tables.

About the author: Meredith Smith is the Slice editor. You can follow her on Twitter: @mertsmith.

From Serious Eats

Serious Eats is bustin' out all over. In the last year we've added Sweets, Drinks, and Chicago to our family of blogs. And as good as Carey, Erin, Kenji, Maggie, Robyn, Nick, and Meredith are, even they cry uncle once in awhile. So we've added a couple of amazing full-time Serious Eaters to the crew, and we wanted to officially welcome them.

Don't worry. They're hardly strangers to our wonderful community, as you're about to find out. Max Falkowitz and Carrie Vasios are longtime Serious Eaters, and we're thrilled that they're joining us. We're also thrilled that Carey Jones and Erin Zimmer are stepping up to new, exciting roles.

But rather than talk too much, I'll let each of the editors tell you what they'll be doing now. In their own words.

Max Falkowitz, New York Editor

Hi everyone, I'm Max, and I've been writing for Serious Eats for two years as the author of Spice Hunting and Scooped. I couldn't be more excited to take the reins as editor of Serious Eats: New York. In addition to all our wonderful features, we'll explore ways to make the site even more of a go-to destination for every New Yorker who loves to eat. You can expect even more dispatches from the city's ethic dining capitals and stories from the amazing people who work so hard to bring us our daily meals.

Carrie Vasios, Sweets Editor

I'm Carrie, and I've been with SE since January of 2011. I write three columns (Serious Entertaining, Wake and Bake, and Cookie Monster) and act as Community Manager for the site. I've recently taken over as editor of Sweets, which is a sugar-filled dream come true. I can't wait to expand our Sweets coverage, focusing on everything from new candies to behind-the-scenes baking.

Carey Jones, Senior Managing Editor

Serious Eats has been part of my life since I was Ed's first intern, before the site launched in 2006; for the last three years, I've been the editor of Serious Eats: New York, with a little work helping Maggie out on Sweets.

Now, I'll be the Senior Managing Editor—coordinating the many sites that make up the wide world of Serious Eats, assisting editors on new site launches, and generally making sure that every little corner of the site lives up to the standards we set for ourselves at Serious Eats. I'll still be chiming in on all things New York, with reviews, roundups, and more. But my main goal from here on out is to help all the other all-star editors make their sites as great as they can be. We couldn't have a better team to do it.

Erin Zimmer, National Managing Editor

It was back in 2007 that I first emailed Ed as a fangirl, telling him how much I loved Serious Eats; the next thing I knew, he was hiring me as the SE: Washington Bureau Chief (still the most official-sounding title on my resume). In 2008, I moved up to New York from D.C. to work at the storied SEHQ, and boy has it been an amazing ride watching the sites grow in so many dynamic directions. As the National Managing Editor, I'm eager to continue working with our enormously talented team of writers and editors (you already know and love them as much as I do) while developing more editorial partnerships and community events.

J. Kenji Lopéz-Alt, Chief Creative Officer

I've been writing my Food Lab column for Serious Eats since 2009 and have been the Managing Editor of the site since 2010. As the new Chief Creative Officer (a title we completely made up), I'll now be working exclusively on improving our recipe, technique, taste test, and equipment columns, as well as continuing to manage all of our video content. We've always had an extremely strong recipes program, thanks to our amazing lineup of recipe writers and testers. My goal is to make Serious Eats your first and only stop for finding the best, most fun, most interesting, and—most important of all—most reliable free recipes on-line. I'll also be working with Jessica, our outstanding videographer on bringing you more unique and original video content. Want to see more of a particular type of recipe? Want to know what's the best jarred salsa? Feel free to contact me any time at kenji@seriouseats.com with questions, comments or ideas about our recipes, techniques, taste tests, and equipment columns!

Maggie Hoffman, Drinks Editor

I'm Maggie, Drinks editor (and founder) and I started out writing about craft beer for SE back in 2009 (and we launched Drinks about a year ago as a dedicated site). I edited SE: Sweets with Carey Jones for the last 7 months, but now I'm pumped to hand the reins over to the fabulous Carrie V, so I can focus on my awesome drinks contributors and explore the world of sippable deliciousness full time.

Nick Kindelsperger, Chicago Editor

I'm Nick, the editor of Serious Eats Chicago. Though the site only launched back in November of 2011, I've actually been writing for SE since way back in 2007, when I first started the Dinner Tonight column. You can usually find me on the hunt for the most delicious foods in Chicago, including my never ending quest for the best taco.

Meredith Smith, Slice Editor

Hey Serious Eaters, I'm Meredith. I started writing for Slice last January, and I'm quickly approaching a full year as the editor. I'm looking forward to keeping you up to speed on all the saucy, cheesy happenings while continuing to collaborate with contributors to bring you better and better pizza-filled original content.

Robyn Lee, A Hamburger Today and Photo Editor

I'm Robyn, AHT editor and overall Serious Eats photographer and photo editor. I started interning at SE in January of 2007, and by the end of the year I was part of the full-time staff. Unlike everyone else, my role isn't really changing; my goals are to continue pumping up our burger content, improving photos, and, if I have spare time, drawing more doodles.

So let's give a warm Serious Eats welcome to Carrie Vasios and Max Falkowitz, and a round of applause for all our fine editors. Welcome to the fray, Carrie and Max. We're thrilled to have you.

Grimaldi's seems to have taken a turn for the better since moving up the street from its original location (left). [Photos: Adam Kuban]

I had low expectations in visiting Grimaldi's new location at 1 Front Street, just up the street from the original spot at 19 Old Fulton. The place has been in the news as of late more for tax and landlord drama than for its product. And, I gotta say, it's often served me some underdone, soggy pies. I figured that in moving to a new space, Grimaldi's would give me more of the same—minus the quirky, cramped Brooklyn charm of the original.

But ... but ... you know where this is going, right? The new location, in what was once Brooklyn's first safety deposit bank, seems to have put a new spring in Grimaldi's step. And the pizzas I had there this week were better than any time in recent memory.

A small regular pie with sausage ($14).

I've always thought Grimaldi's pizza had great quality toppings but was undone by that lackluster, underbaked crust. The place has long been a magnet for tourists. In and out, in and out, all day long. You got the feeling they pulled pies from the fire as quick as possible, leaving them a little doughy.

But the pies we sampled recently were cooked through, crisp on the bottom, and were still plenty foldable and flexible.

The sauce on our regular pie with sausage was good enough. Like most New York–Neapolitan pizza, it's a San Marzano or San Marzano–style canned tomato that's simply crushed and minimally seasoned before going on the pie and in the oven. It doesn't particularly make you sit up and take notice, but it wasn't bland, nor oversweetened or aggressively herbed.

The mozzarella is great. Creamy, a little salty, stringy when hot from the oven. There's enough here to satisfy, not so much as to overwhelm; an even match between sauce and cheese.

I wish the sausage were a bit better, though. It could have stood more flavor. More fennel, more salt. More juiciness. The perfectly cupped, grease-cradling pepperonis on the neighboring table's pie had me wishing I could pull my Pizza Inspector General card and demand a taste. Next time.

A small white pie ($14).

I'm usually not a white pie guy, but the one here is good. A white pie, of course, has no sauce. At Grimaldi's its simply extra mozzarella and a goldilock of garlic—not too much, not too little. The flavor of the crust was more apparent. It's not a deeply flavored crust, but what it does have going for it is a decent amount of salt, which helps motivate you to finish the "pizza bones."

Look, this crust is not going to wow the pizza nerd crowd. It's not airy, or supple, or standing perfectly in the intersection of Crisp and Chewy Streets. But it does the job if what you're looking for is a good, shareable pizza with some friends. And that's pretty much Grimaldi's sweet spot, especially poised as it is under the Brooklyn Bridge, near the new park, up the street from the ferry landing.

The upskirts above show the difference between the regular pie (left) and the white pie. They're still a little inconsistent even within the same order, but even the blonder red pie was cooked all the way through—and, anyway, the one on the right is getting just a little too charred for my taste.

As my tablemate John pointed out, they did a nice job of putting just a tiny bit of browning on the cheese, pulling it out of the oven just before it could burn. I like these chewy little bits of browned cheese. (Not everyone does, though.)

The new space is great. I hate change. I always like to grumble about places losing character when they move or renovate or what not. So I wanted to grouse about the new building. But I can't. It's a neat set up....

When you walk in the door, the bar is to your left. This is new, as the old Grimaldi's was so chockfull there was no space to think, let alone nurse a drink.

Look up, and you notice there are people looking down at you. It's a bilevel restaurant, with a large dining room up a set of stairs in the back.

Here's the reverse view, and you can see the guys building pizzas at the make station. It would be fun to sit upstairs and watch that.

The upstairs room also has its own bar (not shown) and about the same amount of seating as downstairs.

To the immediate right of the door is the coal oven. It's not one of the monster ovens that Scott Wiener schooled us all on, rather just a small(ish) coal-burner in a steel frame.

Like the old space, there's a bit of "pizza theater" going on. The pizzamakers are in full view of about half the patrons.

I kind of love that they have a TV to watch. To me, that is very old-school Brooklyn.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Still cash only. Still NO SLICES.

Grimaldi's Coal Brick-Oven Pizzeria

1 Front Street, Brooklyn NY 11201 (at Old Fulton Street; map)
718-858-4300; grimaldisnyc.com

About the author: Adam Kuban is the founder of Slice. You can follow him as @akuban on Twitter.

The KettlePizza as tested in 2010. The latest model is unpainted stainless steel with a different thermometer. [Photo: Adam Kuban]

Yes, we've seen the KettlePizza. Judging by the number of emails I've gotten about it this week, it's been going around the internets,* where blogs are trumpeting it as a "game changer"—without having even tried it.

At Slice, we actually do the homework. That's why we tested this thing when it first made a splash in the pizza world in summer 2010. Read our full test here, but to summarize:

The KettlePizza insert does indeed add some juice to Weber-grill pizza-cooking—once you get the coal temperature and stone temperature up to snuff. And doing that takes a boatload of fuel and a lot of attention.

* Thanks to everyone who emailed these links our way. I might sound a little grumpass above, but I'm mostly exasperated at the blogs who report this as a pizza savior without having tested it.

About the author: Adam Kuban is the founder of Slice, where he has seen it all. You can follow him as @akuban on Twitter.

[Editor's note: Today marks Paulie Gee's two year anniversary! Congrats to Paulie and his team! Keep up the great work.]

The full segment will air on NBC's Today show on Tuesday, March 13, between 8:30 and 9am ET. More info at aarp.org/Jane. Paulie Gee's: 60 Greenpoint Avenue, Brooklyn NY 11222 (map); 347-987-3747; pauliegee.com

Cruz has been working the oven at Astoria's Forno Italia for years now. I think he must get a little bored at times. [Photo: Adam Kuban]

As the wife and I walked in to one of our local favorites last night, we were greeted by a menagerie of bread animals, including this cute wood-fired alligator (or maybe it's a crocodile, I don't know). We've been going to Forno Italia regularly since I moved in with my better half a couple years ago. I've never seen anyone on the oven but Cruz, who makes a solid if not stunning pie for the Astoria-Ditmars area—his focaccia, though, is outstanding. I think this is what he must do to amuse himself in his downtime there.

How were pizzas sold in the 70s? With bears and free frisbees!

Roasted potato pizza from Flying Squirrel Pizza Co. in Seattle.[Photograph: Adam Lindsley]

With St. Patty's Day nearing and it being Lent there has been talk about potatoes on pizza. Both those things cast the topping in a particularly starchy light (think corned beef and potato pies—yeah that happens—or Polish pizza—aka pagache). But thinly sliced and adorned with rosemary, potatoes are a traditional pizza bianca topping at shops all over Rome. And there are lots of New Haven pizza fans that claim that Bar's mashed potato topped pie is their best.

What say ye? Potatoes on pizza: way or no way?

Unsure of your stance on pizzas and potatoes? Try one of these recipes:
Pizzeria Picco's Potato and Roasted Garlic Pizza»
Maialino's Pizza Rustica»
Flying Squirrel's Roasted Potato Pizza»
Kenji's Fingerling Potato and Brussels Sprouts Pizza»

About the author: Meredith Smith is the Slice editor. You can follow her on Twitter: @mertsmith.

[Photographs: David Kover]

But our waitress at this Castro pizza-pasta joint swore that the double entendre is accidental. The place started its life as an actual sausage factory before morphing into its current incarnation in 1968. The dark wood, Victorian decor and the Frank Sinatra on the sound system certainly don't invoke anything brazen or tawdry.

The pizza, well, it comes on a thick slab of crust that's been cooked on a screen. It feels a bit doughy at the center, but somehow manages to dry out by the ends.

Pick up a slice, and the quilt of cheese tends to slide off, revealing a layer of sweet, pasty tomato sauce. On the sausage pie, hefty chunks of fennel-y pork break up the landscape.

Even on their small pizza ($11.50), all that crust and cheese and pork makes for a sizable portion of food. Sometimes bigger isn't better.

The Sausage Factory

517 Castro Street, San Francisco, CA 94114 (map)
415-626-1250; sausage-factory.com

About the author: David Kover is a San Francisco-based freelance writer and food enthusiast. He occasionally gets his tweet on as @pizzakover.